Книга - Sweet Silver Bells

Sweet Silver Bells
Rochelle Alers


Brief encounter…or forever love? Then… Being chosen to design luxury hotels in Charleston is a career coup for privileged Crystal Eaton. Meeting charismatic corporate attorney Joseph Cole-Wilson is an unexpected bonus. Until one passion-filled night in Joseph's penthouse changes her life forever.Now… Haunted by sensual memories, Joseph can't accept their short-lived liaison as a onetime fling. And when a chance encounter reunites him with the Florida beauty, the Cole heir vows she won't get away a second time. Even after discovering Crystal's secret, Joseph knows nothing can dim his desire. He'll prove it with sweet words of love that could make this a Christmas to remember.If she'll just say yes…







Brief encounter…or forever love?

Then…

Being chosen to design luxury hotels in Charleston is a career coup for privileged Crystal Eaton. Meeting charismatic corporate attorney Joseph Cole-Wilson is an unexpected bonus. Until one passion-filled night in Joseph’s penthouse changes her life forever.

Now…

Haunted by sensual memories, Joseph can’t accept their short-lived liaison as a onetime fling. And when a chance encounter reunites him with the Florida beauty, the Cole heir vows she won’t get away a second time. Even after discovering Crystal’s secret, Joseph knows nothing can dim his desire. He’ll prove it with sweet words of love that could make this a Christmas to remember.

If she’ll just say yes…


She flashed a sexy moue. “I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

After slipping into his suit jacket, Joseph reached into the breast pocket and handed Crystal his cell phone. “I’m going to need your cell number so I won’t have to go through the hotel operator.”

Crystal took the iPhone and put in her number. She offered him a tentative smile, handing him back the phone. “Thank you for being a wonderful dinner guest.”

Raising her hands, Joseph kissed each of her fingers. “Good night, Crystal.”

Her smile widened. “Good night, Joseph.”

Crystal felt his loss within seconds of his releasing her hands. Proper etiquette stipulated she walk him to the door, yet her legs refused to follow the dictates of her brain. She didn’t know how long she stood there, waiting for the sound of the door opening and closing. When it didn’t come, she followed him. He stood at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“Joseph?” His name came out in a shivery whisper.

Without warning he turned and approached her. Crystal didn’t have time to catch her breath when she found herself in his arms, his mouth on hers in an explosive kiss that stole the very breath from her lungs. Her arms came up in seemingly slow motion, circling around his neck, holding him fast.


ROCHELLE ALERS

has been hailed by readers and booksellers alike as one of today’s most prolific and popular African-American authors of romance and women’s fiction.

With more than seventy titles and nearly two million copies of her novels in print, Ms. Alers is a regular on bestseller lists, is frequently chosen by Black Expressions Book Club and has been the recipient of numerous awards, including the Emma Award, Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing, the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award and the Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award.

She is a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., Iota Theta Zeta Chapter, and her interests include gourmet cooking, music, art and traveling.

A full-time writer, she lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island.




Sweet Silver Bells

Rochelle Alers











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader (#ulink_a20562e4-d432-587a-a7ee-32d938be2c9c),

Even before I sat down to plot Sweet Silver Bells I knew I wanted to link two members of my favorite fictional families—the Coles and the Eatons. But the question was who I would choose.

You were given brief glimpses of Crystal Eaton in Sweet Southern Nights and Joseph Cole-Wilson in Secret Agenda, and because both are Floridians I thought, “Why not join these two strangers from prominent Florida families who have more in common than either could have ever imagined?”

Career-driven Crystal finds herself completely enthralled with Joseph, who presents himself as the total package, but for her, the timing is all wrong. A family tragedy forces her to return to Florida, and again fate intervenes when she comes face-to-face with the man whom she will be inexorably linked at Christmas by a love that promises forever.

Read, love and live romance.

Rochelle Alers

www.RochelleAlers.org (http://www.RochelleAlers.org) Roclers@aol.com


Sweet Silver Bells is dedicated to the readers who asked for more Coles and Eatons.


Honor the Lord with your wealth, with the first fruits of all your crops.

—Proverbs 3:9


Contents

Cover (#u1213ff29-de65-5b8c-afe9-2ad631c74853)

Back Cover Text (#ucfce6337-3d1b-509b-a168-32155865ec1c)

Introduction (#u735e7d04-9e6b-5db2-8a91-a633bf4fb60e)

About the Author (#ucc78ba23-b178-56ee-9be4-754cd33de7d9)

Title Page (#u194f4d81-5e40-5bf4-a918-454653bf98d7)

Dear Reader (#u681bd7c3-a075-585a-bd37-00762fc816d3)

Dedication (#uf151be1b-58e5-5d1d-82ae-4064e4779809)

Bible Quote (#u6f25604b-33d7-5fdf-97f2-f58b9aa6b2c2)

Prologue (#u501f81f8-e285-5ace-b2fb-c79229222425)

Chapter 1 (#ucb4de658-644a-5434-bea9-502699a2d21a)

Chapter 2 (#u0c907524-ea66-524b-b49d-d2c524311940)

Chapter 3 (#u70ab9878-78bc-5a11-81e9-2867f69f3f83)

Chapter 4 (#u46003bc7-6cc3-5046-8a7e-26f8fa114b13)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue (#ulink_550dee6f-9315-5899-811f-928f8241a5d7)

Reunion

“Attention, passengers,” the pilot’s voice echoed throughout the jet cabin, “this flight to Miami will terminate at Palm Beach International due to a security breach at our scheduled airport. All passengers will be rescheduled to other flights once flights are allowed to land and depart from Miami.”

The jet landed smoothly and Crystal Eaton and her baby daughter, Merry, made it into the terminal to find people standing around staring at the electronic boards. All flights to Miami were delayed indefinitely.

“Oh no,” she whispered under her breath. That meant she didn’t know when she would get home. Sitting and balancing Merry on her lap, she retrieved her cell phone. “Mother, I’m at the Palm Beach Airport. All flights going into Miami are delayed.”

“I know, darling. I just heard the news report.”

“I’m going to rent a car and drive down. I’ll call you again when I get into the city.”

“How’s Merry?”

Crystal smiled for the first time in hours. “She’s a real trouper. She hasn’t cried or fussed the whole time.”

“Drive carefully, Crystal. Please don’t make me worry about you and my grandbaby, too.”

“I will.” It wasn’t until she walked in the direction for car rentals that her mother’s plea resonated with her. She professed to worry about her daughter and granddaughter but also about her ex-husband, who’d been admitted to the hospital with chest pains. Several arteries had been found clogged, necessitating immediate heart surgery.

There were long lines at the rental car counters and Crystal set the car seat on the floor. She wanted to put Merry down but decided against it. Her daughter had just taken her first steps several days ago and she didn’t trust her not to fall and hurt herself on the marble floor.

The line moved slowly and Crystal wondered if taking a taxi would be a better choice.

She’d just moved out of the line when she went completely still. Walking into the terminal was the man she’d never expected to see again. She turned around, but it was too late.

He’d recognized her.

Closing her eyes, she whispered a silent prayer that he wouldn’t make a scene. A shiver snaked its way up her back as his moist breath swept over the nape of her neck.

“You’re a liar!” His accusation lashed at her like the stinging bite of a whip.

Crystal turned slowly to face the man who still had the power to make her heart beat a little too fast for her to breathe normally.

She watched Joseph as he stared at her little girl. Even if Crysal hadn’t changed, he had. His face was leaner, his cropped hair grayer, and she detected new tiny lines around his large, deep-set, intense eyes. It was as if there was no more boyishness left in Joseph Cole-Wilson.

“I didn’t lie to you,” she countered.

Grasping her upper arm, Joseph steered her away from the crowd to a spot where they couldn’t be overheard. “I asked you to let me know if you were pregnant, and you said you weren’t.”

When she tried extricating her arm, he tightened his grip. “I’m not going to stand here and debate with you. I have to get to Miami. My father had a heart attack and—”

“I’ll take you to Miami,” he volunteered, cutting her off.

Crystal shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m taking a taxi.”

Joseph pushed his face within inches of hers. “Please don’t fight with me, Crystal. As soon as I call someone I’ll take you.” Reaching for his cell phone, he punched in a number. “Diego, I need Henri to come to the airport to pick up Zach. His flight is due in at any moment. I’m going to call and tell him. Thanks.” He tapped another number. “Hey, bro. I’m not going to be able to pick you up, but I have someone coming from ColeDiz who’ll meet you. I have a family emergency, but I’ll be in touch.”

Even though Crystal only heard one side of Joseph’s conversation, she knew it was futile to argue with him. He’d said that he had a family emergency. Well, he was wrong. Raleigh was her and Merry’s family, not his. He might have fathered her daughter, but legally he had no claim to her.

Joseph extended his arms. “I’ll carry her.” Crystal reluctantly let him take Merry.

The little girl reached out and patted Joseph’s clean-shaven jaw. “Dada,” she crooned, laughing and exhibiting a mouth filled with tiny white teeth as Joseph buried his face in her black curly hair.

“Yes, princess. I am Daddy.”

Crystal closed her eyes. Merry had a vocabulary of about twenty words, and Dada had been the first one; Crystal hadn’t exposed her daughter to many men, yet Merry hadn’t called any of them Dada.

Crystal followed Joseph out of the terminal to the parking lot, strangely relieved that she didn’t have to go through the ordeal alone.

Joseph set the car seat on the second row of seats in the Range Rover, then placed Merry in it and secured the harness while Crystal got in beside her. She was exhausted. Not physically but emotionally. She stared at the back of Joseph’s head when he got in behind the wheel and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

* * *

Joseph slipped on a pair of sunglasses as he followed the signs for the airport exit. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he noticed Crystal had closed her eyes. “What’s her name?”

“Meredith, but I call her Merry.”

“How old is she?”

“She turned one October tenth.”

He smiled. “An October baby like her mother.”

Although he wanted and needed answers, Joseph decided to wait. Crystal’s father’s health crisis was a lot more pressing than uncovering why she had decided to conceal the fact that he’d fathered a child. Fate had intervened, bringing them together, and he had no intention of letting Crystal walk out of his life again.


Chapter 1 (#ulink_cf25f869-95a7-5b4b-8960-a35df00c2a9f)

Destiny

Crystal Eaton took a quick glance at the navigation screen on the Ford Escape. She was thirty-three miles from Charleston, South Carolina, less than half an hour from her destination, and if she hadn’t had to drive down to Miami earlier that morning, she would’ve arrived much sooner. As she unclenched her teeth, the lines of tension bracketing her mouth vanished.

Her mother had called crying hysterically as soon as Crystal had maneuvered out of the parking garage at her Fort Lauderdale condo. She hadn’t been able to understand a word her mother was saying, and in a panic she’d driven south instead of north.

It wasn’t the first time in her life Crystal wished she hadn’t been an only child. If Jasmine Eaton hadn’t been able to reach her, then she would have been forced to contact her son and/or other daughter whenever she had an emotional meltdown.

If it had been a medical emergency, Crystal would have postponed her plan to meet with the owner of several luxury hotels, but she then discovered the cause of her mother’s latest hissy fit. Jasmine’s current boyfriend had refused to take her with him on a business trip to Las Vegas, leading Jasmine to accuse him of cheating on her.

Biting her tongue and instead of telling Jasmine she was too old for adolescent histrionics, Crystal smiled, issuing her usual mantra, “Mother, this, too, shall pass.”

This was followed by another crying jag until Crystal reminded her mother that her eyes were swollen and her cheeks blotchy.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch when Jasmine raced to her bathroom to examine her face, declaring no man was worth sacrificing her beauty.

Crystal knew her own reluctance to marry was because of her parents’ inability to form lasting relationships. Her fifty-four-year-old father had been married four times and her mother, only a year younger than her ex-husband, had had so many dates with a steady parade of men coming and going that Crystal stopped counting.

However, Jasmine was quick to inform anyone who labeled her a serial dater that she was very discriminating when it came to sleeping with a man. Jasmine’s gratification came from being seen on the arm of a handsome gentleman, not sleeping with him.

Crystal’s cell rang and she glanced at the number on the dashboard. Activating the Bluetooth feature, she said, “Hey, Xavier.”

“Where are you, Criss?”

“I’m about forty minutes outside the city.”

“Selena and I expected you hours ago.”

She’d promised her cousin she would stop and spend some time with him, his wife and their toddler daughter. “I would’ve been here sooner if I didn’t have to drive to Miami and check on my mother. She just broke up with her latest male friend, and that always sends her into drama mode. I believe she liked this one more than she’s willing to admit.”

“Isn’t she a bit too old to have tantrums?” Xavier asked, chuckling softly.

Crystal rolled her eyes, although her cousin couldn’t see her. “Please, Xavier, don’t get me started. My mother should’ve become an actress instead of an art dealer.”

Xavier laughed again. “Your mother is drama personified.”

Crystal frowned. “I don’t know why I mentioned her, because talking about my mother’s antics always gives me a headache. It’s too late to stop by tonight,” she said, deftly changing the topic of conversation, “so I’m going directly to the hotel. I have meetings tomorrow and Friday, but I’m free this weekend.”

“Why don’t you come spend at least Saturday or Sunday with us?”

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll call to let you know when I’ll be there. See you soon.”

“We’ll be here,” Xavier said.

Tapping a button on the steering wheel, Crystal ended the call. Crystal smiled for the first time in hours. She was about to embark on a project she’d dreamt about since decorating her first dollhouse. But this project wasn’t about dollhouses but two historic landmark buildings the owner planned to turn into an inn and a bed-and-breakfast.

The original owners of the three-story, early-nineteenth-century structures had used them as their secondary residences whenever they relocated their families from the cotton, rice and indigo plantations built along the creeks and marshes in order to escape the swamp fevers so prevalent at the time during the intense summer heat.

She knew she’d taken a big step when she left her position with a prestigious Fort Lauderdale architectural and design firm to set up her own company—Eaton Interior and Design. She’d come to the realization she’d been overworked, overlooked for promotions, underpaid for her expertise, all the while being subtly sexually harassed by one of the partners. Rather than initiate a lawsuit against him and the firm, she’d decided it was time to leave.

Despite Jasmine’s occasional histrionics, Crystal had to thank her mother for giving her the encouragement she needed to strike out on her own. Jasmine might have been impetuous when it came to her relationships, but she was the complete opposite when buying and selling art. Jasmine revealed that she, too, was thirty when she’d sold her first painting, so it would stand to reason that her daughter would start up her own company at thirty.

Two years later Jasmine opened a thriving and exclusive art gallery in an upscale Miami neighborhood with a growing clientele that included celebrities who wanted to decorate the walls of their sprawling mansions with works of art.

Crystal didn’t have a shop—not yet—but she did have recommendations from several of her father’s clients and one from her mother. Not once had she harbored any guilt about using her parents’ name to further her career. It was the least they could do for emotionally abandoning her as a child. She’d found herself competing with her father’s wives for his attention, while her mother had never recovered from losing her husband, the man she considered the love of her life.

Crystal spent more time at her cousins’ house than she did her own. Levi, Jesse and Carson Eaton were more than cousins. They had become her surrogate brothers.

The lights of downtown Charleston came into view as she listened to the automated voice issuing directions, driving through cobblestone streets lined on both sides with elegant homes still festooned in Christmas lights and decorations. It was the second week in January and it was as if the residents were reluctant to let go of the holiday.

Maneuvering up to the hotel’s entrance, she slowed, coming to a complete stop in front of a valet wearing a white shirt, red bow tie, black vest and slacks.

“How long are you staying, ma’am?”

“I’ll be here for a couple of months.”

“Are you Ms. Eaton?” the young man asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I am.”

The valet opened the driver’s-side door. “I’ll park your truck and have someone bring in your luggage.” Reaching into the back pocket of his slacks, he removed a walkie-talkie. “I need a bellhop out front.”

Crystal reached for her handbag and the tote with her laptop and then slipped from behind the wheel. She managed to smother a moan. Her legs were stiff and her shoulders ached. She’d driven nearly six hundred miles, stopping in St. Augustine to refuel and order a fruit salad. The entire drive had taken her nearly twelve hours.

What she wanted now was a leisurely bath before climbing into bed to sleep undisturbed throughout the night.

She made her way into the lobby and over to the desk to check in, admiring its sophisticated opulence. Marble flooring, several glittering chandeliers and a massive glass-topped table in the center of the lobby cradled an enormous hand-painted ceramic vase filled with fresh flowers. Queen Anne chairs were positioned at round pedestal tables for guests to sit and relax.

A woman with flawless brown skin, neatly braided hair and an infectious smile greeted Crystal as she approached the front desk. “Welcome to the Beaumont House. How may I help you?”

“I’m Crystal Eaton,” she said, “and—”

“Oh, Ms. Eaton, we’ve been expecting you,” the woman said. “Your accommodations will be handled by concierge.” She picked up the telephone, speaking quietly into the mouthpiece.

In less than a minute, a tall man in a black tailored suit approached the desk. There was something about his bearing that reminded Crystal of her father. Raleigh Eaton’s good looks, refinement, charm, and legal and financial acumen had made him a very wealthy man and a magnet for women regardless of their age.

Two years ago he’d divorced his fourth wife, and his current fiancée was thirty-five, only five years older than Crystal. Wherein Raleigh might have been unable to maintain a successful marriage of any duration, he wasn’t so reckless as not to have had his prospective wives sign a prenuptial agreement. The exception had been his first wife. The alimony payments deposited directly into Jasmine’s bank account like clockwork afforded the mother of his only child, coupled with her successful art business, a very comfortable lifestyle.

The concierge extended his hand, while offering Crystal a friendly smile. He lowered his gaze rather than let her see the admiration in his gaze. Crystal Eaton was stunning. Her pixie-cut hairstyle, unblemished face, the color of polished mahogany, radiated good health, and her dark brown wide-set slanting eyes, pert nose and full, sensual mouth were enthralling.

The perfection of her body matched her face: tall, slender and curvy in a pair of fitted black jeans, matching pullover sweater and leather flats.

“Welcome, Ms. Eaton. I’m John Porter, your personal concierge. Mr. Beaumont has asked me to take care of all of your needs during your stay.”

Crystal took his hand, finding it as soft as her own.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Porter.”

John reluctantly withdrew his hand. “Mr. Beaumont has arranged for you to stay in the penthouse. You will have the privilege of twenty-four-hour room service that includes laundry, dry-cleaning, housekeeping and meals.” He angled his head, smiling. “All of which are gratis. The penthouse staff is aware they’re not to accept tips from you. Don’t look so alarmed, Ms. Eaton,” he said when Crystal’s gave him a stunned look, her delicate jaw dropping. “They are compensated far beyond what the other employees earn,” he added when her mouth closed.

She forced a smile she didn’t feel at that moment. “That’s good, because I wouldn’t want to take advantage of their services.”

John cupped her elbow, directing her to the bank of elevators, and stopped in front of one with a sign indicating floors 8-PH. “Mr. Beaumont treats all of his employees quite well. I’m going to give you two room card keys. The red one will permit you elevator access to your floor and the green to your apartment.”

He handed her an envelope with her name, punched the button and waited for the doors to open. Crystal walked into the car. He entered behind her and, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, removed a master key and inserted it into the PH slot. The doors closed, and the car rose silently.

When she agreed to the terms in the contract between Beaumont Hotels and Eaton Interior and Design in which the owner of the hotel chain would provide lodging for the duration of the project, Crystal had expected to occupy a suite, not a penthouse apartment. She knew Algernon Beaumont was anxious for her to decorate the two boutique hotels before spring and the influx of tourists to the Lowcountry, and because she wasn’t married, didn’t have a fiancé, boyfriend or children, Crystal was able to accept the commission that would take her away from home for weeks at a time.

The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into a carpeted hallway.

John remained in the elevator. “You’re in penthouse two, which is on the left,” he informed Crystal. “The bellhop will bring up your luggage. If you need anything, please dial fifteen and either I or someone from my staff will procure it for you.”

Crystal smiled at the very formal man. “Thank you. I doubt if I’ll need anything tonight.” All she wanted was a bath and a bed. Anything she did need would wait until the next day.

John nodded. “Good night, Ms. Eaton.”

“Good night, Mr. Porter.”

She walked the short distance to the door labeled PH 2, opening the envelope and taking out one of the card keys.

Crystal’s hand halted as she caught movement out the corner of her eye. She stole a glance at a tall, slender man dressed in a pair of cutoffs, a T-shirt and flip-flops closing the door to the other apartment as he walked toward the elevator. The contrast of the white shirt against his olive complexion was attention-grabbing. He was like a bronze statue come to life.

After several seconds Crystal realized she was staring when their eyes met and held. Even from the distance she noticed the perfection of his features.

“Good evening, neighbor,” he said.

She went completely still as a shiver of awareness swept over her body. The man’s voice was deep and as utterly sensual as he appeared to be. “Good evening,” Crystal replied, smiling.

“Are you checking in?” She nodded. Closing the distance between them, he extended his hand. “Joseph Cole-Wilson.”

Shifting the card key to her left hand, she took the large, groomed hand with long, slender fingers. “I’m Crystal.”

“It’s nice meeting you, Crystal.”

Nodding, she withdrew her hand from his loose grip. “Are you Joseph or Joe?”

He smiled, drawing Crystal’s gaze to his sensual mouth and the slight cleft in his strong chin. “I’ve always been Joseph. I’m not going to hold you up settling in, but I just want you to know I’ll be next door if you need anything.”

Crystal wanted to tell Joseph that if she did need anything, all she had to do was pick up the telephone and dial two digits. She didn’t know if Mr. Drop-Dead Sexy was attempting to come on to her, but at present his mojo definitely wasn’t working. She was much too tired to carry on an exchange of witty repartee with him, and the reason she was in Charleston took precedence over any-and everything in her life.

“Thanks, Joseph. I’m sorry, but I have to get some sleep or I’m going to fall on my face.”

Joseph’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. Light from a wall sconce illuminated the face of the tall, slender woman with the killer body. Only those in his family knew his legal name: José Ibrahim Cole-Wilson. His mother had always called him Joseph, so the name stuck.

Crystal put up her hand to smother a yawn, and it was then he noticed her exhaustion.

“I’m sorry to hold you up. Have a good evening.” That said, he turned and walked to the elevator.

Crystal stared at him until he disappeared into the car. Then she inserted the card key into the slot, waited for the green light and pushed open the door.

If the furnishings in the lobby reflected a bygone era, it was the same in the penthouse. The chairs, tables, lamps, wall mirrors in the living and dining rooms were uniquely art deco, one of her favorite decorating styles.

Dropping her handbag and tote on an oversize ottoman, she walked into a modern, state-of-the-art kitchen with double stainless steel sinks, cooktop stove, double oven, eye-level microwave, dishwasher, French-door refrigerator/freezer, trash compactor and cooking island. There was also a fully stocked wine cellar with three dozen bottles.

Crystal opened the refrigerator stocked with dairy products, the vegetable drawers with fresh fruit and salad fixings. The freezer was also filled with packaged and labeled meat. The shelves in the pantry were stocked with everything she would need for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A door off the kitchen revealed a half bath.

She continued her tour, mounting a flight of stairs, discovering two bedroom suites with adjoining baths. Each bedroom was constructed with sitting and dressing areas. Wall-to-wall silk drapes were open to offer an unobstructed view of nighttime Charleston and a lit rooftop deck.

She returned to the first floor at the same time the bell chimed throughout the apartment. She opened the door and the bellhop carried her bags up the staircase, leaving them in the hallway outside the bedrooms. He returned, gave her a slight bow and then left, closing the door behind him.

Crystal turned off all the lights on the first floor with the exception of the table lamp in the entryway. Her footsteps were slow as she climbed the staircase for the second time, wondering if she would remain awake long enough to take a shower.

After a hot shower, she crawled into bed, pulling the sheet and comforter up to her neck.

She hadn’t drawn the drapes. Daylight coming in through the windows would become her alarm clock. Eight hours of sleep would give her everything she needed to face the day and the most comprehensive commission of Eaton Interior and Design thus far.


Chapter 2 (#ulink_fd1f5b6c-2b29-5f3e-84b2-d567bf33aad1)

Joseph lost count of the number of times he swam the length of the Olympic-size swimming pool on the lower level of the Beaumont House. He’d also stopped cursing his cousin for banishing him to South Carolina to start up ColeDiz Tea Company, ColeDiz International Ltd.’s first U.S. mainland venture since their great-grandfather established the company ninety years ago. He was solely responsible for the oversight of the ongoing operation of the tea garden, as well.

This wasn’t his first trip to the Lowcountry. Two years ago, Joseph had met with Harry Ellis to survey one hundred acres of land between Kiawah and Edisto Islands the real estate agent had purchased on behalf of the Cole-family-owned conglomerate. Not only had Harry bought the land, but five years earlier he’d also brokered a deal with a Ugandan cotton grower for Diego, making ColeDiz the biggest family-owned agribusiness in the United States.

Subsequently an engineering company had drained the swampy area to prepare it for growing and processing tea leaves, all the while Joseph insisting they not upset the ecological balance of region’s indigenous wildlife.

He’d argued with his cousin that he was a lawyer, not a farmer, but Diego was quick to remind him that he also wasn’t a farmer, yet had familiarized himself with the entire process of growing and harvesting coffee, bananas and cotton. Joseph had been under the impression that tea wasn’t grown in the States, but Diego told him about the tea garden on Wadmalaw Island, South Carolina. Once ColeDiz Tea Company harvested their first yield, there would be not one, but two tea gardens in the United States.

It’d taken him a while, but he had adjusted to spending the last two years of his life in Belize, Mexico, Jamaica, Puerto Rico and Brazil, educating himself with the cycle of planting, cultivation, harvesting and processing coffee and bananas in order to learn everything he could about the different varieties.

It hadn’t been only about planting trees, but also soil quality, insect control and irrigation. He had logged thousands of hours in the air, crossed various time zones and grown accustomed to sleeping in strange beds and ordering room service. Several of his college buddies and fraternity brothers claimed they envied his jet-setting lifestyle, but Joseph had been quick to remind them it was work and not fun.

However, he did take time off to have some fun when he stayed with his landscape-architect cousin Regina Spencer in Bahia, Brazil. Regina and her pediatrician husband hadn’t been to Carnival in years, yet had offered to accompany him. Joseph witnessed firsthand the once-in-a-lifetime frivolity. Partying nonstop for three days offset the months, weeks, days and hours he spent learning to become a farmer.

Now he was back in Charleston to oversee the first planting of ColeDiz Tea Company’s tea garden. He’d grown fond of the incredibly beautiful historic port city and its friendly populace. He returned not as an attorney but as a farmer and an astute businessman. Although assigned to the legal department, he’d been groomed to eventually take over as CEO when Diego retired. His cousin failed to realize that Joseph preferred the legal component to running a company. Whether it was negotiating contracts or spending hours researching and interpreting international tariffs, law had become his jealous mistress.

He didn’t want to think about jealous mistresses or past relationships. His four-year liaison with Kiara Solis had run its course the third day into a two-week Hawaiian vacation when he’d tried to make the best of what had become a highly volatile situation.

Kiara had been under the impression they were going on a romantic holiday where he would propose, although he’d told her repeatedly he hadn’t been ready for marriage. At twenty-eight his life wasn’t stable. He’d just resigned his position clerking for a Florida appellate judge to join ColeDiz. He had also purchased land in Palm Beach with plans to build a home, but even that had been placed on hold until after he curtailed traveling.

Joseph’s father had lectured him about dating a woman for more than two years without committing to a future together. His father failed to understand that although he loved Kiara he hadn’t been in love with her. If he had, there was no doubt he would’ve married her.

Joseph swam the length of the pool, then pulled himself up at the shallow end. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling from the exertion. Picking up a towel from the stack on a wooden bench, he dried off before pulling on his shorts and T-shirt. Swimming was the perfect alternative to sitting up watching late-night infomercials.

Joseph walked to the bank of elevators. Living in the penthouse wasn’t a perk but a requisite befitting his lifestyle. He’d grown up privileged, and having the best life had to offer was something for which he never apologized. As a Cole and a member of the purportedly wealthiest African-American family in the country, he accepted everything that went along with the distinction.

Kiara had called him a “spoiled rich boy” and a few other epithets that he would never repeat to anyone, and it was her vicious and spiteful outburst that reminded him why he’d been reluctant to ask her to marry him. It hadn’t been the first time Kiara had gone off on him when she couldn’t get her way, but it was the last time Joseph decided to turn the other cheek. Although laid-back and easygoing, he wasn’t a masochist.

He was certain his parents had had their disagreements, yet he couldn’t remember a time he was privy to them. Joseph shook his head as he stepped out of the elevator car, and walked to his apartment, unlocking the door. He vowed to remain single until he met the woman with whom he felt he wanted to spend his life. After all, he was only thirty and in no immediate hurry to settle down and start a family.

Climbing the staircase to the second level, he stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a hamper, and then stepped into the shower. By the time Joseph got into bed, he had mentally prepared himself to oversee the project he’d been entrusted with. Despite his initial objection to setting up a tea garden, he knew failure was not an option.

* * *

Crystal woke rested and clearheaded. Her appointment with Algernon was scheduled for nine in the hotel restaurant; he’d informed her they would meet with the contractor in downtown Charleston to inspect the interiors of the recently restored properties.

When she first came to see the abandoned buildings, she’d found herself hard-pressed to contain her excitement. Despite the faded, peeling wallpaper, warped floors, weakened window sashes and the pervasive odor of mold, she was able to imagine the beauty and elegance of the renovated spaces. Algernon, or Al, as he insisted she call him, wanted the interior to replicate the furnishings of 1800s Lowcountry city residences.

After brewing a cup of coffee, she unpacked, putting everything away, then stepped into the Jacuzzi for a leisurely soak. The hands on the clock on the bathroom’s vanity had inched closer to eight-fifteen when she stepped out of the tub. At eight forty-five she entered the restaurant off the hotel lobby, the hostess greeting her with a friendly smile.

“Good morning, ma’am. Are you a guest?”

Crystal nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“What is your room number?”

“I’m in penthouse two.”

The hostess punched several keys on a computer. “Ms. Eaton?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I have an appointment to meet Mr. Beaumont here at nine.”

“Ms. Eaton, I don’t know if anyone told you, but as an elite guest you’ll take your meals in the private dining room. Mr. Beaumont will meet you there.” The young woman motioned to a passing waiter. “Patrick, please escort Ms. Eaton to Mr. Beaumont’s table.”

Crystal followed the waiter to the rear of the restaurant and to a door with a plaque reading Elite Hotel Guests Only. The space was half the size of the restaurant for other hotel guests and the general public, and furnished in the manner of a formal dining room with cloth-covered tables and place settings of china, silver and crystal. Classical music flowed from hidden speakers as waitstaff moved silently, efficiently picking up and setting down dishes.

She thanked the waiter when he pulled out a chair at a table in an alcove, seating her at the same time her cell phone chimed softly. Reaching into her handbag, Crystal retrieved the phone and glanced at the display. It was Algernon. Tapping in her pass code, she answered the call.

“Good morning, Al.”

“Crystal. I’m glad I reached you. I rang your room, but it went directly to voice mail. I’m on my way to the airport to catch a flight to Vancouver. My daughter was injured on a movie set, and even though I’m told it isn’t serious, I need to see her. I’m not certain when I’ll be back, but I’ll keep you updated. I’m sorry you had to come and—”

“Please don’t apologize,” Crystal said, interrupting him. “Take care of your daughter and don’t worry about me. I’ll be here when you get back. The last time I was in Charleston I didn’t get to do much sightseeing, so I intend to tour the city until you return.”

“Thanks, Crystal, for being so understanding.”

“Have a safe flight and I’ll see you when you get back.”

She ended the call, exhaling an audible sigh. Although anxious to see the restored buildings, Crystal also understood an unexpected personal predicament. And taking care of your family always took precedence over everything. There were Eatons living in different parts of the country, but whenever there was a significant occasion, they all came together as one whether it in sickness, tragedy, marriage or a new birth.

She’d attended so many weddings over the years Crystal needed a scorecard to document which first cousin had married whom. It began with Belinda marrying her brother-in-law sports attorney/agent, Griffin Rice. Belinda and Griffin had become guardians of their twin nieces after the death of their parents, who were Belinda’s sister and Griffin’s brother. Belinda made Griffin a biological father for the first time after giving birth to a baby boy.

The marriage bug then bit Belinda’s brother, Myles, when he married his ex-fiancée after a ten-year separation. Myles hadn’t known Zabrina was pregnant with his son, because she’d been blackmailed into marrying another man. They added to another generation of Eatons with a daughter.

Myles and Belinda’s sister Chandra married celebrated playwright Preston Tucker, and they were now the parents of a daughter, and Xavier and his wife, Selena, also had a daughter. All the Eatons were wagering whether Denise and Mia and their husbands would have boys once they decided to increase their family, because it looked as if girls were outnumbering boys in the latest generation of Eatons.

Crystal still did not picture herself a wife or a mother. The closest she’d come to a committed relationship was when she lived with a man after enrolling in graduate school. Her parents disapproved of her living or shacking up with a man, because they claimed they’d raised her better than that.

Jasmine lamented, why would the man want to buy the cow when he could get the milk free? Her comeback was that she didn’t want to be bought, because her goals did not include becoming a wife.

Her relationship with Brian worked well; he also didn’t want to marry or father children. As a child he’d been physically abused by his parents, spent years in foster care and feared he would turn out like them. He and Crystal had lived together for three years before Brian was offered a teaching position at a Los Angeles college. Crystal encouraged him to accept the position, and after graduating she gave up their miniscule New York City Greenwich Village studio apartment and moved back to Florida.

She lived with her mother until she secured employment with a Miami-based design firm. Once she transferred to their Fort Lauderdale office, she purchased a two-bedroom condo in a gated community.

Living alone was a wake-up call that she was in complete control of her life and future.

She beckoned a waiter as he finished filling a water goblet at a nearby table. “Is it possible for me to change tables? Mr. Beaumont won’t be joining me.” Crystal didn’t want to sit in the grotto-inspired alcove alone.

The waiter glanced around the room. “There’s an empty table near the window.”

Crystal nodded. “I’ll take it.”

It wasn’t until she was seated near a wall of glass that she saw her penthouse neighbor. Joseph sat at a table several feet away. Their eyes met and she returned his open, friendly smile with one of her own.

“Good morning, neighbor,” Joseph said in greeting.

Her smile grew wider. “Same to you, neighbor.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes, I did. Thank you for asking.”

Joseph stared boldly at the woman, who’d exchanged her jeans and sweater for a navy blue pantsuit and white silk blouse. A light covering of makeup enhanced her best features: eyes and mouth. His gaze lingered on Crystal’s flawless dark complexion. He took a quick glance at her hands. She wasn’t wearing a ring, but that still didn’t mean she wasn’t married or involved with someone.

His interest in the woman occupying the neighboring penthouse was a reminder of how, for the past two years, his life had not been his own to control. He hadn’t found time to embark on another relationship since his breakup with Kiara, but now that he was stateside his days and nights were more predictable.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked Crystal.

“No, I’m not. Why?”

“I see several people waiting for tables, and if we sit together, it would free up one for them.”

Crystal’s gaze shifted from Joseph’s deeply tanned face to the couples standing at the entrance. She was seated at a table for two while he sat at a table seating four. “You may sit with me.”

As he moved over to sit opposite her, Crystal inhaled the subtle scent of his masculine cologne. It was if she were seeing Joseph for the first time. Last night she hadn’t realized he was so tall. She was five-nine in her bare feet, and estimated he had to be at least three or even four inches above the six-foot mark. He was casually dressed in relaxed jeans, black Timberland boots and a white button-down shirt, opened at the collar under a navy blue blazer.

The hint of a smile softened her mouth. “I see you’re Greek.”

Attractive lines fanned out around his large dark eyes when he smiled. “Alpha Phi Alpha,” he said proudly, glancing at his belt buckle with the Greek alphabet. “Are you also Greek?”

Crystal nodded slowly. “Alpha Kappa Alpha.”

Joseph smile grew wider. “Well, Miss AKA, where did you go to school?”

“Howard. And you?”

“Cornell.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “So you’re an Ivy Leaguer. I’m impressed.” It wasn’t often she met many African-American men who’d attended Ivy League colleges. Most she knew had enrolled in historically black colleges. “Are you active?” she asked Joseph.

He flashed a set of straight white teeth. “Active and financial.” Since his return to the States, Joseph had rejoined his local chapter. He planned to drive to West Palm Beach one weekend each month to attend chapter meetings.

Crystal glanced at a spot over Joseph’s broad shoulder. She didn’t want him to think her rude for staring. Despite the stubble on his lean jaw, there was something about his features that made Joseph almost too pretty to be a man. “I’m financial but inactive. Unfortunately,” she admitted, “I don’t have the time to attend my chapter meetings.”

“Where is your chapter?”

“Miami.”

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re a Gator.”

Crystal wasn’t able to discern from Joseph’s expression whether he was being derisive or complimentary. “Is there something wrong with being a Gator?” she asked defensively.

“Hell no, because you’re looking at a fellow Gator. Palm Beach,” he said before she could ask.

She laughed softly. “It looks as if we’re truly neighbors in every sense of the word.” Crystal paused, and then asked, “What are you doing in Charleston?”

Joseph picked up the menu, studying the selections rather than looking at Crystal. He’d never been one to engage in what he deemed inane repartee in order to glean information from a woman, yet that was exactly what he was doing with Crystal.

“I’m here on business.”

“So am I,” Crystal concurred.

He glanced up, meeting her direct stare. “It appears we have a lot in common. We’re both Greek, Floridians and we’re in Charleston on business.”

“That’s three for three.”

Joseph angled his head. “What about your marital status?”

“What about it?” she asked, answering his question with one of her own.

“Are you single?”

“I’m single and unencumbered.”

A beat passed. “Is that the same as not having any children?” Joseph asked

“It is.”

He went completely still. “That’s four for four.”

“What else do you want to know about me, Joseph?”

There was another pause before he asked, “How long do you plan to be here on business?”

“I estimate a couple of months.”

The slow smile that spread over his features did not reach his eyes. Joseph thought about the odds of meeting a woman, an incredibly beautiful woman who was staying in the same hotel as his, on the same floor and with whom he shared much in common. If he’d signed up with an online dating service, Crystal would’ve been the perfect candidate. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, but friendship—something he hadn’t had in a while.

And for him it had never been about how many women he could sleep with, because there had been more than he could count or remember who were more than willing to become his dessert after he’d taken them to dinner. He didn’t know why, but Joseph always thought about his sister and the lengths he would go to if some man sought to take advantage of her. His mantra of protect a woman as if she were your sister was never that far from his mind, and he knew that was why he’d continued to stay in his past relationship longer than necessary.

“Five for five,” Joseph drawled. He’d planned to live at the hotel for the next four months; the tea garden’s manager who was overseeing wanted to return to Nebraska with his wife, where she would give birth to their first child.

Crystal smiled as she glanced at the menu. It appeared as if she had more in common with Joseph than she’d had with Brian. The man with whom she’d lived eschewed fraternities and sororities, claiming they were socialized cults. The subject always started an argument where they wouldn’t speak for days. It wasn’t their only disagreement, but it was one subject she refused to allow him to vilify. Her mother had been an AKA and her mother before her.

Her stomach rumbled loudly and she hoped Joseph hadn’t heard it. She motioned to a waitress standing several feet away. “I’m ready to order now. I’ll have grits with soft scrambled eggs and one slice of buttered wheat toast.”

The waitress scribbled on her pad. “Would you like coffee, tea or juice, ma’am?”

Crystal closed the binder. “I’d like green tea and grapefruit juice.” Joseph had just given the woman his order when an ear-shattering piercing sound reverberated throughout the room.

The waitress slipped her pad into the pocket of her apron. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave the hotel. That’s the fire alarm.”

As if on cue, everyone began filing out, Joseph reaching for Crystal’s free hand as she gripped her handbag with the other. Hotel personnel were escorting guests down the staircases, because the elevators were shut down, through the lobby and out to the parking lot. The wail of sirens in the distance came closer and closer. Members of the police and fire departments were now on the scene, urging everyone to leave the parking lot and move across the street.

Joseph tucked Crystal’s hand into the bend of his elbow as they followed the crowd away from the building. An elderly woman complained loudly that someone on her floor had been smoking in their room and she thought it shameful they’d ignore the hotel’s smoke-free policy.

“It looks as if we’re going to have to forgo breakfast,” Joseph said softly, leaning closer to Crystal.

Her stomach rumbled again at the mention of breakfast. “Maybe you can, but I have to get something to eat. The last time I had solid food was more than eighteen hours ago.”

He went completely still, his eyes meeting hers. “Do you have an eating disorder?”


Chapter 3 (#ulink_dc945d21-4850-59fc-9be5-6fb5b6749ceb)

It took several seconds for Crystal to process what Joseph had just asked her. She wasn’t underweight and she definitely didn’t look emaciated, either. “No!” she said. “I didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday. I drove up from Miami and I wanted to get here before nightfall,” she explained when he continued to stare at her. “And there’s nothing anorexic-looking about me.”

Joseph blinked slowly before a slow smile spread over his features. His gaze moved over her body. “No, there isn’t.” He sobered quickly. “I know of a small restaurant not far from here.”

Crystal wasn’t immune to the hungry look in his eyes, and wondered if Joseph knew how much his eyes mirrored what he was feeling. It was apparent he hadn’t learned to hide his emotions behind a facade of indifference. “How far is not far?” she asked.

“It’s about ten blocks. If we start out now, maybe we can get there before it gets too crowded.”

Crystal eased her hand from his loose grip, reaching into her handbag for her phone. She had no intention of walking ten blocks in four-inch heels. “I have a cousin who lives downtown and I’m going to call him and let him know to expect us.”

Joseph narrowed his eyes. “Are you certain he’s not going to be put out with bringing a stranger into his home?”

“He’s not going to be put out. We Eatons have an open-door policy when it comes to family.” She’d proudly stressed her family’s name.

His smooth brow furrowed when she mentioned the name Eaton. “Are you related to Judge Solomon Eaton?”

“You’ve heard of him?” Crystal asked.

“Are you kidding?” Joseph couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. “I clerked for him for a year before joining my family’s business.”

Crystal couldn’t stop her hand from shaking as a shiver of unease eddied up her back, making her more than apprehensive. She did not want to believe she was indirectly connected to a man she’d met less than twenty-four hours ago. “You’re a lawyer.” The query was a statement of fact.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re certain it was my uncle you clerked for?”

“Yes,” Joseph said emphatically. “We happen to be fraternity brothers.”

She ran a hand over her short hair. Her uncle had pledged Alpha Phi as a Howard University undergraduate. “This is much too weird. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalking me.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Joseph gave her a direct stare. “I can assure you that I’m not stalking you. In fact, I didn’t know you existed before last night. And the name Eaton isn’t that common. And with you being from Florida, I just assumed you were related.”

His former boss had distinguished himself as a federal prosecutor before he was appointed to the bench, and still held the distinction of presiding over more drug cases than any other U.S. attorney in south Florida’s history. He indicted a drug kingpin, several traffickers responsible for high-end deals and midlevel dealers caught with large amounts of cocaine and marijuana.

“Solomon Eaton is my uncle,” she confirmed. And he was also Levi, Jesse and Carson’s father.

Reaching into the breast pocket of his blazer, Joseph retrieved his cell phone. “I’ll call a car service while you call your cousin.”

Walking away to put some distance between them, Crystal turned her back, tapping the screen for Xavier’s number. “Good morning, Crystal,” Selena answered in greeting.

“Good morning to you, too,” she replied. “Selena, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you up on your offer to hang out with you guys earlier than I’d anticipated.” She told her cousin’s wife about her aborted meeting with the hotel owner and having to evacuate the hotel because of a fire situation. “I hope you don’t mind if I stop by for breakfast.”

“Crystal, please. You know you don’t have to ask.”

“I’m asking because I’m bringing someone with me.”

“That’s not a problem. I was just preparing brunch for Xavier. He doesn’t have classes until this afternoon. I’ll hold off cooking until you guys get here.”

“Thanks, Selena.”

Crystal ended her call at the same time Joseph ended his. “My cousin says you’re welcome to come with me.”

He smiled. “Thank you. The car should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

Staring at him in the bright sunlight, she noticed flecks of gray in his coarse, cropped black hair. Crystal doubted whether he was that much older than she, which meant he was graying prematurely. She also wondered how many times Joseph came to Charleston on business for him to have had a local car service programmed into his phone.

There was so much more she wanted to know about him, yet was reluctant to ask. She just wasn’t prepared to accept any more revelations. And because he knew her uncle, there was also the possibility he had been familiar with her aunt and cousins.

She wrapped her arms around her body as much to ward off the morning chill as to protect herself from someone she wasn’t prepared to possibly become involved.

What-ifs nagged at her like exposed, inflamed nerves. If her mother hadn’t had a meltdown delaying her arrival, she would’ve spent the night with her cousins instead of the Beaumont House. If Algernon hadn’t had a family emergency, she would have shared a table with him instead of Joseph. Now she was exacerbating the situation by inviting him to meet her cousins.

Crystal didn’t get the overt vibe that Joseph was coming onto her, but even if he was, she knew his efforts would be fruitless, and not because she had qualms about establishing a friendship with a man.

Her sole focus was the exclusive commission to decorate the historical structures with exquisite antiques and reproductions. She’d spent months in furniture warehouses and at estate sales looking for pieces with which to decorate a nineteenth-century Lowcountry residence. It wasn’t just furniture she’d sought but also accessories, including candlesticks, vases, rugs, apothecary jars, clocks, linens, teapots and other collectibles.

She’d recommended Algernon rent a storage unit. Several pieces she had purchased at an estate sale were carefully wrapped, crated and shipped to him at the Beaumont House, where he arranged for them to be stored in the unit that was quickly filling up with sets of china and silver. Once she inspected the restored buildings, Crystal would be faced with what to put into each room. And in keeping with the time period, she’d planned for the walls to be covered with wallpaper, tapestries or even fabric.

She was anxious to begin her first significant commission.

“A dollar for your thoughts.”

Joseph’s soft, drawling voice shattered her reverie. Smiling, she turned to face him. “I thought it was a penny.”

“That was before inflation,” he countered. Slipping out of his jacket, he placed it over Crystal’s shoulders. “You look cold.”

Tugging on the lapels, she inhaled the cologne clinging to the cashmere fibers. “Thank you, but aren’t you going to be cold?” She had on a suit, while he was in his shirtsleeves.

“No. After spending so many winters in upstate New York with lake-effect snow, I rarely feel cold.”

“When I was here last January it was much warmer than it is now.”

“Last year was unusually warm.” Joseph stared at Crystal’s distinctive delicate profile. “Did you bring winter clothes with you?”

Crystal nodded. “Yes. However, I didn’t expect to stand outside when I got dressed this morning.” Her wool gabardine pantsuit wasn’t adequate for the low-forties temperature. As someone who lived in Florida year-round, anything below fifty degrees was cool to her.

A Lincoln Town Car maneuvered up to the curb, and Joseph, resting his hand at Crystal’s waist, led her to the rear of the limo as the driver alighted. “I’ll get the door, Mr. Wilson,” the chauffeur called out.

Joseph stepped back, permitting the driver to open the rear door. Crystal got in first, and he followed, sitting beside her on the leather seat. Waiting until the man was seated behind the wheel once again, she gave him the address to her cousin’s house.

Sitting close to Crystal, feeling her feminine heat and inhaling the hypnotic scent of her perfume was a bonus Joseph hadn’t anticipated when he suggested they share a table.

The ride was much too short when the driver stopped in front of a classic example of a Charleston single house. The wrought-iron and stone pinecones atop ornate brick gates guarded the three-story structure with tall, narrow black-shuttered windows and first-and second-story white porches. The street address and 1800, the year the house was erected, were engraved into a brass plate affixed to one of the brick gate columns.

“Nice,” Joseph crooned sotto voce. The house was surrounded by palmetto trees and several ancient oaks draped in Spanish moss.

Crystal smiled. His reaction was similar to her own when she first saw Xavier’s house. “Wait until you see inside.” Selena had decorated the interiors in an iconic Lowcountry style.

The driver came around to open the door and Joseph stepped out, extended his hand and assisted Crystal until she stood beside him. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he removed a money clip, peeling off a bill and handing it to the man. “I’ll need you to take us back to the Beaumont House later this afternoon.”

The chauffeur pocketed the money, smiling, then handed Joseph a business card. “Thank you. Call me when you’re ready to go back.”

Joseph put the card and money clip in his pocket. He rested a hand at the small of Crystal’s back as they walked together to the front door. He stood off to the side. She’d just raised her hand to ring the doorbell when the door opened.

Ex-marine Major Xavier Eaton smiled at Crystal. He shifted the little girl he cradled on one hip. Extending his free arm, he pulled Crystal close and kissed her forehead. “Welcome back to Charleston.”

Crystal pulled back, staring at Xavier’s deeply tanned face. He wore a white tee, jeans and running shoes, and his ramrod-straight posture signified he’d had military training. “Thank you. You wear your vacation well.”

Xavier, Selena and their daughter, Lily, opted out of spending Christmas with the extended family when they’d flown down to Puerto Rico to stay with one of Xavier’s Marine Corps buddies who’d retired there once he was medically discharged. Xavier was also forced to resign his commission after a bullet had shattered his leg when he was deployed in Afghanistan. He’d been the quintessential bachelor whose dimples winked whenever he smiled until he stared through the plate glass of Sweet Persuasions to catch a glimpse of Selena Yates, the owner of the patisserie on King Street.

He laughed softly. “I’m still in vacation mode.”

Crystal rubbed noses with Lily Eaton, eliciting high-pitched giggles from the toddler. “Hi, sweet Lily.” Shifting slightly, she smiled at Joseph. “Xavier, I want you to meet a...a friend.” She didn’t know why she was stammering, but for an instant she didn’t know how to introduce him. “This is Joseph Wilson.” Reaching for Joseph’s hand, she eased him closer. “Joseph, this is my cousin Xavier Eaton. And the beautiful little girl is his daughter, Lily.”

The two men shook hands. “Nice meeting you, Xavier.”

“Same here, Joseph. Welcome and please come in.”

Xavier noticed Crystal was wearing Joseph’s jacket over her suit, wondering if the man was the reason his cousin had changed her mind, deciding instead to spend several nights at the hotel. He successfully hid a smile. It’d been a while since Crystal appeared remotely interested in a man, and if she’d decided to bring Joseph to meet her relatives, he suspected he was more than a friend.

He was deployed when his sister told him Crystal had relocated to New York to pursue her graduate studies, and Xavier found it hard to accept that she was living with a man, because it had been drilled into the heads of every Eaton, every generation whether male or female, if a man or woman was good enough to live with, then he or she was good enough to marry.

Crystal slipped out of Joseph’s jacket, handing it to him as they followed Xavier along the length of the porch and through another door leading into an entryway with a solid oak table cradling a collection of woven sweetgrass baskets. Selena’s decorating trademarks were everywhere in the carefully chosen furnishings in the expansive living and formal dining rooms. She’d teased her cousin’s wife that if Selena retired as a patissier, she would hire her as an assistant.

“Did Selena tell you we had to leave the hotel?”

Xavier glanced over his shoulder as he led them down a narrow hallway to the kitchen. “She mentioned something about a fire but didn’t go into detail. What happened?”

“Joseph and I overheard one of the guests complaining about someone smoking in their room.”

“If you guys can’t get back into your room, then you’re more than welcome to stay here.”

Crystal exchanged a glance with Joseph. She noticed Xavier said room instead of rooms. He assumed she and Joseph were sharing a hotel room. “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary—”

“What’s not necessary?” asked a familiar feminine voice. Selena stood at the cooking island in a bibbed apron, her hair concealed under a blue-and-white-checkered scarf as she sprinkled flour on a ball of dough. Her lips parted in a wide grin. “Wow!” she drawled. “Look at you. You cut your hair.”

Crystal smoothed down the short strands on the nape of her neck. “I decided I needed a new look.” She’d affected a hairstyle that was virtually maintenance free. She didn’t have to use a blow-dryer, curling iron or flatiron. It was what she thought of as wash and go. A trim every six weeks kept the style fresh.

Wiping her hands on a towel, Selena approached Crystal, arms outstretched. “Good seeing you again. He’s gorgeous,” she whispered under her breath, hugging her husband’s cousin tightly.

Crystal knew Selena was referring to Joseph, and she had to agree with her. He was gorgeous. “Selena, I would like you to meet Joseph Wilson. Joseph, this is Selena, who just happens to be the best pastry chef in the entire city.”

Smiling, he took Selena’s hand. “My pleasure. Your home is beautiful.”

Selena’s dark, almond-shaped eyes in a face the color of toasted hazelnuts crinkled attractively when she smiled. “Thank you. It’s going to be at least fifteen minutes before everything is ready, so if you’d like, Xavier can give you a tour of the house.” She cut her eyes at her husband. “Honey, please put that child down. Once you leave she’s going to wild out because I refuse to carry her around.”

Xavier tightened his hold on Lily as he gestured for Joseph to follow him, deliberately ignoring Selena. “If you don’t have any plans for Super Bowl Sunday and if you’re going to be in Charleston, then I’d like you to come over for a little get-together.”

Crystal waited until she was certain the men were out of earshot before turning to look at Selena, who’d opened the refrigerator/freezer, taken out a small dish filled with freshly cut fruit, set it and a fork in front of her and then gone back to rolling out dough for biscuits.

Sitting on a stool at the island in the ultramodern chef’s kitchen, she said, “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

Selena met her eyes. “What exactly is it I’m thinking, Crystal?”

Between bites of cantaloupe and honeydew, she carefully formed her thoughts. “There’s nothing going on between me and Joseph.” She told Selena how they met and what they’d discovered about each other while sitting in the hotel’s restaurant. “Belonging to a sorority or fraternity isn’t extraordinary, but knowing he’d clerked for my uncle is eerie.”

“It’s not as eerie as it is serendipitous. It’s as if you were destined to meet,” Selena drawled, trying not to laugh.

Slipping out of her suit jacket, Crystal draped it over the back of the stool. “I don’t believe in serendipity.”

“What do you believe in?”

It was a full minute before she said, “I believe everyone is born with certain gifts and it’s up to us or for others to recognize those gifts in order to make the world a better place.”

Selena picked up a pastry brush, dipping it into a bowl of melted butter, and then brushed the tops of the biscuits in a baking pan. “What about love, Criss?”

“What about it?”

“Don’t you believe in love?”

Crystal smiled. “Of course I believe in love. Look at you and Xavier. You guys are living proof of the adage ‘love at first sight.’”

Selena placed the baking sheet on the shelf of a heated eye-level oven. She wiped her hands on the towel tucked under the ties of the bibbed apron. Resting a hip against the countertop, she angled her head. “You’re talking about me and Xavier, but what about you, Criss? I heard about the man you lived with when you went to school in New York. Were you in love with him?”

“I don’t think so. My relationship with Brian was more of convenience and companionship.”

“For whom?”

Crystal stared at the granite countertop. “Brian and I were like a two-headed coin. We were interchangeable.” A wry smile flitted over her lips. “He wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, and it was the same with me. I didn’t want to get married and neither did he. He also didn’t want children, because he’d grown up in an abusive home and he feared he would also abuse a child, while I definitely wasn’t and still am not looking to become a mother.”

“You don’t want to get married or have children?” Selena asked.

She wasn’t marriage-phobic, but she didn’t see it in her immediate future. “Right now I’m concentrating on growing my business. We didn’t have to go looking for a date, and whenever men tried coming onto me, I told them the truth. I was living with a man,” Crystal continued as if Selena hadn’t broached the subject of marriage and children. “We were museum junkies. When Brian wasn’t teaching and when I didn’t have classes, we spent all of our free time seeing how many museums we could visit. One summer we drove to Vermont and hit every museum as far south as D.C.”

Selena’s eyes grew wider. “It sounds as if you had the perfect relationship. Didn’t you ever argue?”

“Oh, we had our disagreements but nothing that monumental. He didn’t believe in sororities or fraternities and he invariably left the toilet seat up and dirty dishes in the sink.”

Scrunching up her nose, Selena drawled, “Thankfully Xavier is a neat freak. Now back to Joseph. It looks as if you two have a lot in common, so if he does ask you out, would you accept?”

“I think my busybody cousin already took care of that. Unless Joseph gives him the four-one-one about us, Xavier assumes we’re sharing a hotel suite. And I’m certain you heard yourhusband invite him here for the Super Bowl party.”

Selena sucked her teeth. “You didn’t see it the last time you were here, but we turned the top floor into a theater and media room. I told Xavier if any of his friends have too much to drink and can’t make it downstairs, then they’re going to stay up there until they’re mummified.”

Crystal laughed until her sides hurt and tears ran down her face. She and Selena were still laughing when Joseph and Xavier entered the kitchen, both holding Lily’s hands as she urged them to swing her higher.

She stared at him, marveling that he appeared so comfortable with her family. When Xavier released his daughter’s hand, Joseph swung Lily up as she emitted a high-pitch squeal of delight. Black curls had escaped the two elastic bands holding her hair in place, and in that instant Crystal wondered if Joseph would be a stern or indulgent father. Judging from his interaction with the toddler, she knew it would probably be the latter.

Lily, breathing heavily, her face flushed, screamed, “I have to do potty!” Joseph set her on her feet and she raced to the half bath off the kitchen.

“She goes by herself now?” Crystal asked. Selena had begun toilet training her daughter at fourteen months, but Lily refused to sit on her potty unless her mother sat in the bathroom alongside her, reading fairy tales and nursery rhymes.

Selena chuckled softly. “Miss Grown wants to do everything by herself now that she’s two. Every morning we bump heads because she wants to pick out her own clothes.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“She forgets we’re in Charleston and not Puerto Rico. She wants to wear sandals, shorts and bathing suits. I try to tell her we’re not in the Caribbean, but she doesn’t seem to understand.” Lily emerged from the bathroom, her hands dripping water, and Xavier handed her a paper towel. The toddler dried her hands and then ran over to Crystal, raising her arms for her to pick her up.

Selena shook her head in exasperation. “When it gets to the point where I’m not going to be able to do anything with her, I’m going to send her to Florida to spend time with you.”

Cradling the little girl to her chest, she dropped a kiss on her hair. “You know I’d take her in a heartbeat. Titi Criss will make certain she’ll have the most tricked-out dollhouse imaginable.”

Lily clapped her chubby hands. “I want a dollhouse.”

Joseph sat on the stool next Crystal. “You build dollhouses?”

Xavier cracked eggs into a mixing bowl, then whisked them until they were light and fluffy before turning them onto a heated stove-top griddle. “You didn’t know your girlfriend is an interior decorator?”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Crystal countered quickly.

“My bad,” Xavier said with a sheepish grin.

Joseph stared at Crystal’s profile. He didn’t know why, but he wanted her to be his girlfriend only because he felt they were destined to connect. “I never would’ve thought you were a decorator.”

She shifted slightly to look at him. “Why not?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Somehow I got the impression you were in Charleston to audit some company’s books.” There was something about her demeanor that called to mind the no-nonsense accountants at ColeDiz.

“You’re not even close. I’m here to decorate the interior of an inn and B and B for the owner of Beaumont House,” Crystal said.

Now he knew why she was living in the penthouse. He stayed at the Beaumont House because it was rated as one of the best hotels in Charleston. And if the owner of the hotel had elected to have Crystal decorate his other establishments, then there was no doubt she was at the top in her field.

“Congratulations.”

She flashed a wide grin. “Thank you.”

Thoroughly exhausted, Lily pushed two fingers in her mouth and closed her eyes. Within seconds she was asleep as Crystal savored the warmth of the small body molded to her chest. She closed her eyes for several seconds and when she opened them she was shocked by the tender expression on Joseph’s face as he watched her rock the child. Seconds ticked as they continued to stare at each other.

Xavier shattered the spell as he gently extricated his sleeping daughter from Crystal’s arms. “Let me take her.”

“Does she usually take a nap this early?” Crystal asked him.

“Her sleep patterns have been haywire since we came back from vacation.”

Xavier placed Lily in a playpen in the corner of the kitchen while Selena removed the pan of golden-brown biscuits from the oven, setting them on a warm plate. Temporarily fortified by the dish of fruit, Crystal stood up, washed her hands and assisted Selena in setting a bowl of grits and a platter with crisp bacon, julienned ham and country links on the table in the breakfast nook in the large eat-in kitchen, while Xavier ladled fluffy scrambled eggs into a serving bowl. Crystal had to do something so as not to sit and stare at Joseph.

* * *

Joseph, seated next to Crystal, took surreptitious glances at her. Each time she asked him to pass her a dish, their shoulders brushed, making him more than aware of her feminine scent.

He was surprised at how comfortable he felt interacting with her and her cousins.

It had to be an Eaton thing because he had experienced the same thing when meeting Solomon for the first time. He’d been referred to the judge by one of his law professors who’d attended law school with Solomon.

Although passing the bar on his first attempt, Joseph found himself mildly intimidated working for the former celebrated U.S. prosecutor, who struck fear in defendants and the opposing counsel whenever he entered the courtroom. Solomon never went to trial unless he was certain of a victory. Joseph’s mentor jurist treated him as an equal, and he learned more about the law working with Solomon than he had in three years of law school.

Joseph swallowed a forkful of grits and eggs, savoring the piquant flavors. “Do you guys eat like this every morning?” he asked.

“I wish,” Xavier intoned. “Most mornings I have breakfast at school. It’s not as appetizing as it is health-conscious.”

Selena smiled at Joseph. “I save the grits, eggs and pork for the weekend or whenever we have houseguests. If I ate like this every morning, I’d end up going back to bed instead of working.”

Joseph slathered apple butter jam on a fluffy biscuit. “Xavier told me you have a home-based mail-order business.”

She nodded. “Yes, I do. I closed my shop on King Street and went completely mail order after Lily was born. We expanded the house and installed a commercial kitchen. Working from home allows me to spend time with Lily and to do what I love.”

He picked up the small jar of jam, staring at the label printed with the Sweet Persuasions website. “Do you sell these, too?”

Selena nodded again. “Those I give away as complimentary gifts for first-time customers. Most times they order the larger size whenever they place subsequent offers.”

“Do you also make them?”

“No,” Selena said, smiling. “I can’t take credit for the jams, jellies and preserves. My grandmother makes them for me and I sell them in two-, four-and six-ounce sizes.”

“How large an order can you accommodate?”

“How large are you talking about?” Selena asked.

“I’d like to begin with an assortment of at least five hundred jars. My family own and operate a number of vacation resorts throughout the Caribbean, and a variety of gourmet jellies and preserves would be perfect for breakfast breads and high tea. The larger sizes could be sold in the gift shops.”

“Which resorts?” Crystal had asked the question before a seemingly stunned Selena could respond to Joseph’s offer.

“ColeDiz International Limited.” Joseph’s expression was deadpan.

A soft gasp escaped Crystal’s parted lips. “You’re one of those Coles?” Even though it’d never been substantiated, the Coles were purported to be the wealthiest African-American family in the United States. It was then she remembered he’d introduced himself as Joseph Cole-Wilson.

The hint of a smile flitted over his mouth. “And you’re one of those Eatons.”

Xavier’s gaze shifted from his cousin to Joseph. “Am I missing something here?”

Joseph told Xavier he’d been a law clerk for Solomon Eaton and that they also belonged to the same fraternity. “Now I’m a true believer that it’s a small world, but I never would’ve expected to meet the judge’s niece when I checked into the Beaumont House.”

Xavier nodded. “Fate is a fickle woman. You never know what to expect from her.”

“Why does it have to be a woman?” Crystal and Selena chorused in unison. Sharing a wide grin, they exchanged a fist bump.

“I think we’d better quit while we’re ahead, brother,” Joseph suggested, as he and Xavier executed their own handshake. He redirected his attention to Selena. “Do you think you’d be able to meet my request?”

She closed her eyes for several seconds. “I...I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

He nodded. “Take all the time you need. However, I’d also like to invest in your company. Just name your price. While you’re thinking about it, can I place an order and have you overnight it to Diego Cole-Thomas. He’s the CEO at ColeDiz.”

A heavy silence descended on those sitting in the kitchen as Crystal stared at the contents of her plate instead of the man sitting next to her. He definitely was one of those Coles, she mused.

She didn’t know if Selena was willing to give up a portion of a business she’d worked to grow over the past three years, and if she did agree to Joseph’s offer, then the Eatons and Coles would be linked even further.

Crystal knew Joseph’s family guarded their net worth like a top-secret government document, and had elected to remain a private company instead of going public like many billion-dollar conglomerates. People such as Joseph sealed deals with a single phone call or with a stroke of a pen.

And he had it all: looks, brains, wealth and power. Something told Crystal to run in the opposite direction, that when they returned to the Beaumont House she should end her association with him. But realistically she knew that wasn’t possible. Xavier had invited him to their Super Bowl party.

Although Crystal did not want to become involved with Joseph, fate, destiny, providence or external circumstances had intervened. He would become a part of her existence while in Charleston and possibly beyond because of her uncle.


Chapter 4 (#ulink_106f6b61-685b-5eba-85a6-c3c2de4c2bad)

It was after one when Joseph and Crystal returned to the Beaumont House.

When he called the front desk and was told the smoky condition had been extinguished, Joseph made arrangements for the driver to take them back. They hadn’t exchanged a word during the return ride.

He reached for Crystal’s hand, guiding her through the throng of guests to the elevators. Aside from reconnecting with his parents and siblings, he couldn’t remember when he’d spent a more enjoyable morning since returning to the States.

The cooking skills of the owner of Sweet Persuasions were superior and the interchange between Crystal and her cousins light, lively and easygoing. He listened closely when Xavier talked of his intent to become a career officer, but after being seriously wounded he’d smoothly transitioned to civilian life and moved to Charleston to teach military history at a prestigious military prep school.

His interest in history was evidenced by the memorabilia in Xavier’s home/office that included military maps, books on military history and black-and-white photographs of players from the Negro Leagues, and different countries and cities he’d taken while on leave.

Selena recounted her career from actress to pastry chef, and now mother of a precocious two-year-old. She admitted to being a frustrated interior decorator, teasing Crystal that whenever she decided to give up her mail-order enterprise she wanted to assist her at Eaton Interior and Design.

Joseph had waited patiently for Crystal to open up about her life and career, but she appeared more interested in her cousins talking about themselves. He still didn’t know her age, if she’d been married or why she’d decided to become an interior decorator. He was also puzzled about her reaction when he’d revealed he was a Cole. He felt her withdraw when it was quite the opposite for him once she revealed she was an Eaton.

Both of them belonged to prominent black Florida families but hadn’t crossed paths. He’d come to Charleston to oversee a business venture and had unknowingly come face-to-face with his mentor’s niece. Joseph wasn’t certain what she’d heard or read about the Coles that made her refer to his name with so much aversion.

It was another five minutes before they were able to squeeze into one of the three elevators. His arm went around her waist, easing her back against his body as a large man settled his bulk against Crystal’s slender frame. His sigh echoed hers when they finally exited the car at their floor.

When he’d gotten up earlier, Joseph had planned to eat breakfast and then drive over to the tea garden to meet with the manager of the tea garden, not spend the morning and early afternoon with a woman who was as intriguing as she was stunningly beautiful.

Reaching into her handbag, Crystal removed her card key, while the hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Let’s hope the rest of the day goes a lot more smoothly than this morning.”

Joseph wanted to tell her there was nothing remotely wrong with his morning. Circumstances beyond his control had connected him with his penthouse neighbor and a plan he never would’ve been able to devise even if he’d mulled it over for days.

“It wasn’t a total loss. At least not for me,” he added, smiling. “And thank you for allowing me to tag along with you for brunch. I’d like to return the favor and prepare dinner for you tomorrow night.” He’d heard Crystal tell Selena she would see her Saturday afternoon.

Crystal’s fingers tightened on the card key. “You can cook?”

His expression changed, vertical lines appearing between his eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”

Cocking her head to the side, she drawled, “Your being a Cole, I thought you would’ve grown up with live-in cooks and housekeepers.”

Joseph’s frown vanished quickly. “So you think because I’m a Cole I’m completely helpless and that I need someone to cook and pick up after me?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Crystal countered. “What I do know is that you’ve overdosed on entitlement pie. You hadn’t known my cousin an hour before you expected her to accept your offer to invest in her company.”

Joseph stared at the carpeted floor for several seconds; then his gaze came up and his eyes met Crystal’s. “I asked her because I’m a businessman.”

“I thought you were a lawyer.”

“I am a lawyer, a farmer and also a businessman looking for new opportunities in which to expand my family’s company.” He realized that two years ago he never would’ve admitted to being a businessman or a farmer. Joseph had challenged the CEO of ColeDiz when Diego gave him the responsibility of adding the tea company to the list of other ventures under the corporate umbrella with the argument that he wasn’t a farmer.

The disclosure that he was a farmer shocked Crystal. “What are you growing?”

Joseph’s expression closed. “We can discuss that when you have dinner with me. Tomorrow night, seven o’clock, my place, casual attire.”

Much to her chagrin, Crystal laughed. She’d just accused Joseph of having OD’d on entitlement and he’d just assumed she would share dinner with him because he wanted it. “What you need to consider is eating a slice of humble pie,” she said laughingly.

Splaying the fingers of his right hand over his heart, he managed to look contrite. “I’m so very sorry, Miss Eaton, but will you do me the honor of sharing dinner with me?” He lowered his hand. “Is that humble enough?”

“It’ll do—for now,” she said, biting back more laughter. Even though she thought Joseph slightly arrogant, she had to add charming to his other obvious assets.

* * *

“Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it.”

“Then Italian it is,” he said with a wide grin.

“Do you want me to bring anything?” she asked.

“No. I have everything I need.”

“Tomorrow night at seven,” she repeated.

Turning, she walked the length of the hallway to her apartment. Crystal felt the heat from Joseph’s gaze on her back, and seconds before she slipped the card key into the slot, she turned to find him watching her. He hadn’t moved. Their eyes met, gazes fusing for a nanosecond; she glanced away, opened the door and then closed it behind her.

Kicking off her shoes, she placed the card key on the table in the entryway and set her handbag on the leather-covered bench seat next to the table.

Walking on bare feet, she made her way into the living room. Flopping down on an inviting club chair, she rested her feet on the matching ottoman and closed her eyes at the same time her cell phone chimed. Pushing off the chair, Crystal went to retrieve the phone from her handbag.

Swallowing back a groan, she tapped the screen. “Hello, Mother.”

“Why did I have to wait almost twenty-four hours just to hear your voice?”

Walking back to the chair, Crystal sat down again. She’d promised her mother she would call her once she arrived in Charleston, but she didn’t because she didn’t want to hear Jasmine go on about her latest breakup. “Mama, please don’t start.”

“Please, Crystal. You know better than to call me by that tacky title.”

She rolled her eyes upward even though Jasmine couldn’t see her. “How are you today?”

“Wonderful. I’m leaving for the airport to fly out to Vegas to meet Philip. He called early this morning to say he wants me to join him.”

Crystal clenched her teeth to keep from spewing curses. She didn’t want to believe she’d driven down to Miami to console her mother just to have her reconcile with her latest beau the very next day. “What happened to you breaking up with him, Mother?”

“I changed my mind. Of all of the men I’ve dated, Philip is someone I’d actually consider marrying.”

“He must really be exceptional if you’re willing to give up your alimony payments.”

“I did say consider.”

Crystal stared at the chipped polish on the big toe of her right foot as her mother talked incessantly about the plans Philip had made for them. “I told him I wanted to take a flight over the Hoover Dam and Grand Canyon,” Jasmine continued without pausing to take a breath, “but he said he’s not certain whether we’ll have enough time.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Wednesday night. Enough talk about me. Have you seen Xavier and his adorable baby daughter?”

Smiling for the first time since answering the phone, Crystal said, “Yes. But Lily’s not a baby anymore. She’s a toddler who’s walking, talking and potty-trained.”

“I really miss seeing Raleigh’s family.”

She registered the longing in Jasmine’s voice. “Remember, Mother, you divorced Daddy, not the Eatons. Whenever they invite you to family reunions, you always decline. And I’ve lost count of those who’ve asked about you year after year.”

“I don’t come because I can’t abide those tramps hanging on to Raleigh as if they can’t breathe without him. He needs to be told to stay away from strip joints when looking for a new wife.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Mother.” Crystal didn’t understand how her father could take up with women who were the complete opposite of his first wife. Jasmine had more class in her little finger than all of her ex-husband’s ex-wives collectively.

“I know you don’t like talking about it, but why don’t you ask Xavier to introduce you to some of his single guy friends? If you’re going to spend a couple of months working in Charleston, you should have some fun, too.”

Crystal rolled her eyes upward again. “I came here to work, not look for a boyfriend.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little casual dating.”

“I’ll think about it, Mother,” Crystal lied smoothly.

Two months was hardly enough time for her to meet and become romantically involved with someone, and what Jasmine termed as casual dating usually meant seeing someone for a month. It would take her more than a month to truly feel comfortable enough to take their casual dating to the next level.

“Hold on, darling. The gatehouse is ringing me.” Seconds later, Jasmine said, “I have to go. My driver is here.”

“Have fun, Mother.”

“I will. Love you, darling.”

“I love you, too.” She ended the call, staring at the live fern in a painted glazed pot on a corner table. The words her mother found so difficult to say when Crystal was a young girl now came so easily from Jasmine. She’d wanted Jasmine to be like the mothers of her friends and cousins who got up and prepared breakfast before seeing their children off to school. Or when she came home after classes, she wanted to find freshly baked cookies waiting for her as she sat down to do her homework.

What she did remember was Jasmine sleeping late, chain-smoking and visiting her therapist, while handing over the responsibility of taking care of her daughter to a series of nannies. Once Crystal turned eight, there was no longer a need for a nanny or babysitter; she had unofficially moved in with her uncle Solomon and Aunt Holly.

Shaking her head to banish painful childhood memories, Crystal pushed off the chair and climbed the staircase to the upper level. Restlessness assailed her, akin to an itch she couldn’t scratch. She needed a full-body massage. She didn’t know why, but she always experienced unease whenever Jasmine called her because she never knew what to expect. Why, she mused, couldn’t they just have a normal mother–daughter discussion without Jasmine bringing up the topic of dating?

What the older woman did not know was that she did date, although it had been a while. Over the years she’d dated a few handsome and not-so-handsome men, those who were well-to-do and others whom she suspected lived from paycheck to paycheck. Their looks and the size of their bank accounts were never prerequisites for Crystal to agree to go out with them. It was always their confidence and manners—the latter taking precedence over the former. Even before she was old enough to date, her mother had lectured her constantly about home training.

Even behind closed lids Crystal could still see the image of Joseph’s deeply tanned face, his dark eyes and tall, toned slim body. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. And the fact that he was wealthy didn’t begin to play into the equation.

She didn’t want to think about Jasmine or Joseph. Rolling her head, she attempted to ease the tight muscles in her shoulders and upper back. It was time for a massage. Having access to an on-site health club was one of the reasons, along with the unisex salon, spa and boutique, was why she’d decided to buy property in the Fort Lauderdale gated community.

Picking up the phone, she dialed the number to the hotel’s Serenity Silk Day Spa. Her call was answered after the second ring. “Good afternoon, Ms. Eaton. How may I help you?”

“I’d like an appointment for a facial and a mood-makeover massage. Is it possible for me to combine the massage with hot stones?”

“Of course, Ms. Eaton. What time would you like to come in?”

Crystal glanced at her watch. “I can be down in less than half an hour.”

“We’ll be waiting for you.”

Ending the call, she went upstairs to her bedroom to change out of her suit and into a pair of sweatpants, a shirt and a pair of flip-flops. The sound of something hitting the windows caught her attention. It was raining. Even if she’d wanted to do some sightseeing, Crystal realized she would’ve had to change her plans.

She slipped the two card keys, a credit card and cash onto a wristlet before leaving.

Crystal walked across the marble floor of the lobby to the spa discreetly located at the end of a narrow hallway. She felt the calming atmosphere the instant she opened the door to the candlelit space, finding herself enveloped in the sounds of a waterfall, soothing New Age music flowing from hidden speakers and the tantalizing scent of essential oils.

The white-coated receptionist escorted her to a dressing room, where she stripped down to her panties and put on a thick terry cloth bathrobe. She was given a cup of herbal tea and a questionnaire asking about her health status, including whether she was pregnant and/or had any implanted devices.

Twenty minutes later Crystal knew she’d made the right decision visit the spa. Her face anchored in the cushioned doughnut on the massage table, she closed her eyes and moaned softly when hot stones lined the length of her spine. She had her mother to thank for her turning her onto the practice of using heated stones dating back five thousand years to the Ayurveda, an ancient Indian healing tradition.

She found herself succumbing to the strong fingers of the masseuse easing the tightness in her shoulders and upper back, falling asleep and waking only when told to turn over.

The hot stone massage was followed by the application of oils made up of lavender and patchouli, and then a shower and a facial that left her moisturized face glowing. She lingered long enough for a mani/pedi.

After paying for the services, Crystal gave the masseuse and esthetician generous tips, feeling better than she had in weeks.

As she left the spa and walked through the lobby, Crystal had to decide whether she wanted to cook dinner for herself, order room service or eat in the hotel’s restaurant. Her step faltered as she headed in the direction of the elevators to find Joseph in a passionate embrace with a petite woman with a café-au-lait complexion and hair the color of ripened wheat.

Joseph lifted the woman off her feet at the same time his eyes met Crystal’s. She saw an expression of surprise freeze his features as he stared at her. She didn’t know why, but she felt like a voyeur even after she’d pulled her gaze away from the couple. Joseph had promised to cook for her the following day, and she wondered if the attractive blonde would join them.

Entering the elevator, she inserted the card key into the PH slot. Two’s company and three is a crowd. The familiar adage came to mind as the car rose quickly to the top floor.

Perhaps, she mused, Joseph should’ve waited to invite her to dinner before checking whether his girlfriend would show up. It was obvious her neighbor was faced with a dilemma, and because Crystal detested confrontation she was more than willing to accept his suggestion to cancel dinner. The ball, as the saying goes, was definitely in his court.

* * *

Joseph went completely still as he held his sister. When Bianca called from the concierge’s desk asking him to come down, he’d been surprised to hear from her. Then he saw Crystal stroll across the hotel lobby in sweats and flip-flops.

Once he and Crystal returned to the hotel, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, or comparing her to Kiara. He found himself transfixed by her soft drawling voice, her low, sensual laughter, the genuine affection she appeared to have for Xavier and Selena and the sparkle in her eyes whenever she interacted with Lily. He was completely mesmerized by the confidence and poise that seemed to come so naturally to her. And after comparing her to Kiara, he realized he’d wasted four years of his life with a woman with whom he had so little in common.

As a Cole, he would always put family first, but not with Kiara. Once she left Baltimore she refused to return or interact with her parents or anyone in her extended family. And whenever he mentioned meeting her family, she would fly into a rage, then not speak to him for days.

“Joseph, please put me down.” Bianca’s command broke into his musings.

“Sorry about that.” He gave her a long, penetrating stare. “How did you find me?” he asked.

A slight frown appeared between Bianca Cole-Wilson’s brilliant gold-green catlike eyes. “Diego told me you were going to be here for a few months. I need to talk to you.”

Joseph hadn’t seen his sister since Thanksgiving. Bianca, a premed senior at Duke University, hadn’t celebrated Christmas and New Year’s with the family because she’d spent the holiday in California with her sorority sisters with whom she shared off-campus housing.

Holding on to her hand, he steered to the bank of elevators. “We’ll talk upstairs.”

Bianca pulled back. “Can’t we talk down here?”

He gave her a questioning look. “What’s the matter?”

“Henri is waiting in the parking lot to drive me back to college.”

“Why are you going back so early? Don’t you have another week before classes begin again?”

“Yes, but I need to clean up my bedroom. I left clothes everywhere. It’s also my week to clean the kitchen and bathroom.”

“Why aren’t you flying up?”

“The jet is being serviced.”

Joseph nodded. Henri had been hired as Diego’s driver and bodyguard. The mandate that anyone with Cole blood was prohibited from flying on a commercial carrier was still in effect more than forty years after Regina Cole’s kidnapping. Instead of arriving at the airport hours before departure time, or going through long lines at the security gate, Bianca and her sorority sisters were seated in the Gulfstream G650 business jet within minutes of arriving at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport for their nonstop flight to LAX.

“Okay,” he said conceding. “We’ll talk in the lounge area. Would you like me to order something for you to eat or drink?” he asked when they were seated next to each other on a tan leather love seat.





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